Chancing on Salvation
by Mika Nakane
Summary: "Someone in this room wants to die." The nations walk into the meeting room one day to find this note plastered on the table. Through their shock, will they be able to identify the suicidal nation before it's too late?
1. Discovery

Chancing on Salvation

Summary: "Someone in this room wants to die." The nations walk into the meeting room one day to find this note plastered on the table. Through their shock, will they be able to identify the suicidal nation before it's too late?

Chapter One: Discovery

_"'Suicide. It's something I've been thinking about. Not too seriously, but I have been thinking about it.'_

_That's the note. Word for word. And I know it's word for word because I wrote it dozens of times before delivering it. I'd write it, throw it away, write it, crumple it up, throw it away._

_But why was I writing it to begin with? I asked myself that question every time I printed the words onto a new sheet of paper. Why was I writing this note? It was a lie. I hadn't been thinking about it. Not really. Not in detail. The thought would come into my head and I'd push it away._

_But I pushed it away a lot."_

_― Jay Asher, Thirteen Reasons Why_

"I can't believe you dragged me along again! Not awesome, West!" Prussia complained as he walked behind Germany to the meeting room. The nation had been threatened with the absence of all his beer, so Prussia had reluctantly tagged along. "You may not be a nation, but you still need to know the state of world affairs!" the other reprimanded.

"'World affairs', huh? What, did Romano cheat on Spain or something?" Prussia teased, laughing when his brother glared at him. "Oh, look, it's cute little Italy!" he noticed, and went to chat with the pasta-loving nation. Germany groaned.

Nearby, America was talking to his northern neighbor enthusiastically. "Hey, bro! Did'ya check out the expansion of McDonald's worldwide? I bet there's even some in that north place of yours!" he was saying, grinning in triumph. He was confused when Canada- Canadia?- shook his head. "No, Nunavut is the only McDonald's-free province in my country. I doubt they would appreciate one either." the nation corrected, prompting America to begin a rant about how McDonalds was the best place on earth.

"Owwww!" Denmark whined as Norway strangled him with his tie again. "Why do you even wear a tie when it will be used to torture you, anyway?" Iceland questioned curiously. "H' pr'b'bly d'dn't real'ze th't." Sweden remarked, making Finland chuckle nervously as the Dane and Swede began a glaring contest.

On the other side of the room, Russia was talking happily with the Baltic states (who didn't seem to return the elation), and Ukraine was holding a conversation with her sister. Japan was conversing pleasantly with China and Korea (mostly China...) at the entrance. Overall, most of the nations were present, with Greece and Turkey glaring at each other in a corner. It was the World meeting, after all, and they didn't dare skip it in fear of missing something important. Besides, it was being held in England this time, ensuring that they actually made progress with their work.

"Is everyone- get off me, frog!- here? Alright, we should start heading in, then." Britain instructed, opening the door. The nations quickly hung their coat on a nearby coat stand and followed. They entered the room noisily- it was large, with a giant table in the middle capable of seating at least 20. No one took much notice of their surroundings as they went to sit in their assigned chair- the seating plans had been created weeks ago.

America sat down beside Japan, dragging the chair back with a loud noise. Suddenly, he paused. "Hey, guys! Look, there's a note in the middle of the table!" he exclaimed emphatically. Climbing on the table ("Feet off the table, America!"), he grabbed the rectangular piece of paper and sat down, starting to read it aloud.

"Dude, check this out! It says 'someone in this room wants... to... die...' WHAT?" the nation shouted, doubting what he had just read. Britain sighed. "Give it here." he instructed as America passed the note to him. It was certainly well made; the silver plated lettering and lightly scented paper made it seem more like a wedding invitation than a possible suicide note. Still, the sharp font on the dark blue background gave it a dreary feel, and there was no writing other than the words in the front. "...He's right. 'Someone in this room wants to die.' is what it says. C-could this possibly be a hoax? After all, why would a nation want to..."

"Actually, it's possible. Bad economy would certainly make us suffer. And suicide is the only way for us to die, _non_? Besides, we've been alive for so long, if someone was just sick of it..." France reasoned. There was a moment of silence as the nations realized the implications.

"O-oh no! We have to help them! Fratello, let's make pasta for everybody-"

"Pasta won't help right now, idiota!" Romano yelled back, although just as worried as Italy was.

China bit his lip as he studied the others. Who could it be...? Why would someone leave a note? Perhaps as a parting warning? A final hint that the mentioned nation was losing it, and that they needed to do something...

"In any case, we need to stop them! Listen, whoever you are, we can help-" Spain was cut off as Romano interrupted him. "It could be _you _for all we know!"

Everyone quieted down again as they registered Romano's comment. It could be anyone. Someone, in this room, wanted to take their own life. Someone was fed up with living. Perhaps it was one of their siblings- or their lover? The nations began to look at their families desperately, praying that they were all right. Tension was building up in the air.

"Listen, this note could be describing any nation in this room. We can't jump to any conclusions." Germany's strong voice attempted to reason. But he was worried as well. It couldn't be Italy, he _wouldn't..._ or would he?

"Hm, if it were handwritten, then we could compare writing, but the letters are clearly typed." Russia frowned. While the nation didn't seem outwardly concerned, he couldn't doubt the fear that it could be one of his sisters. Perhaps Belarus had finally given up on him? Or maybe Ukraine's responsibilities were too overwhelming...

"M-maybe we should all just be there for each other this week." Finland suggested weakly. The other Nordics DID seem like they could do something like that, however much the happy nation wanted to believe in them. They had been especially hard on Iceland in the past week, and Denmark and Sweden argued just this morning... Sweden placed a hand on his shoulders to comfort him.

"T-that's a g-good idea." America stuttered. After all, it was quite spooky in a way... But he was the hero, and heroes were supposed to save the people in danger! He glanced at his family. Britain and France seemed somber, and Canada looked shocked and worried. His own countenance probably mirrored theirs...

The meeting commenced, taking on a more serious mood than any of the previous ones. The significance of the note prevented the customary interruptions and inane commentary from happening. The tenseness in the air was almost palpable.

Which was why they were relieved when the lunch break came around at 12:30. The nations practically jumped out of their seats and ran out of the room. Not for food, but in order to appease their uneasiness.

...oOo...

"H-hey, tomato bastard..." Romano started nervously. The Spaniard had dragged him to a nearby coffee shop, and they were seated at a table close to the window with doughnuts and smoothies in front of them (don't ask; Spain had ordered). "Hm? Yes, Lovi?" Spain answered back with a smile.

"D-don't call me that..." Romano mumbled, but returned to his point. "You- Are you okay? Not that I c-care or anything, but... y-you can tell me if something is bothering you, bastard..." he trailed off awkwardly, and Spain stared at him in surprise. "You thought the note was talking about me?" he laughed. "No, absolutely not! I was actually going to ask you the same thing. Tell me, Lovi..." he tilted the Italian's chin up so that they were looking into each other's eyes. "Is there anything at all that you aren't comfortable with?"

Romano blushed, "N-no way. I'm not stupid enough to think about things l-like suicide." He hesitantly smiled, and accepted the embrace that he found himself in a few moments later. "I'm glad. So we're both in the clear, sì?" Romano nodded against his chest. Spain sighed in relief. So it wasn't Romano. The dark haired Italian just seemed so... Spain shook his head. He shouldn't doubt his little Lovi! His eyes flickered in determination, and he realized that Romano was feeling the same way. "W-we have to find that idiot, and kick some sense into him." he declared, and the other agreed immediately. "Suicide is something horrible... I'd be _mucho triste _if it was someone I loved."

* * *

**A/N Well, that's two people cleared. Or is it? Anyway, I don't want to add in the characters for the story description just yet, since it would probably be a spoiler. Oh yeah, I go with the headcanon that a nation can only die when it commits suicide (this was someone else's... I forget who...). Who do you guys think it is, and whom do you think left the note? :)**

**Also, I recently became a beta-reader, so feel free to ask me to edit anything (I can get back to you in an hour)! Thanks for reading, and please leave a review! :D**


	2. Deceit

**A/N Sorry, I forgot to add the disclaimer last chapter! I knew I was missing something****You know, Himaruya-sensei should write a fanfic, just so that he could put in "I own Hetalia". Because I don't, and that would be amusing...**

* * *

Chapter Two: Deceit

_"The trick to forgetting the big picture is to look at everything close-up."_

_― Chuck Palahniuk_

Germany sighed, checking his watch. He paused after finishing chewing the last mouthful of pasta on his plate. The cheerful Italian in front of him was chatting enthusiastically. He had been talking about a cat that he'd encountered on the way to England, and- oh, he stopped to eat. "Italy, we have to go back now." he notified, using the break to speak without interrupting his friend. Italy pouted. "B-but I don't wanna go back there!" he whined. "Oh yeah, did you like the pasta?" he smiled happily, waiting for the German's response.

"Ah- it was delicious, Italy, danke." he hastily replied. Of course it was, Italy's food was always delicious. Still, he could understand the nation's desire to evade the meeting- he even partially agreed. The atmosphere was thick with worry in there, full of attempts to excogitate their family and friends. Everyone was quite clearly on edge, and while they seemed to progress well in the meeting, most were too distracted to follow what they actually covering. Italy seemed to be an example of this. The moment Britain had announced that the meeting would be adjourned for half an hour, Italy had perked up and dragged Germany out of the building. Their destination was a picnic area in the middle of a large clearing; vast greenery spread out around them, making the place a relaxing diversion from the unappealing talk of politics.

Like always, Italy insisted on making lunch for him. The meal was always pasta, but the Italian was able to make so many variations of the same dish that Germany honestly didn't mind. He wasn't paying much attention to the food, anyway. Right now, his focus was on Italy. The European nation was so happy, so innocent. Or was he? Germany blamed the sudden worry on paranoia, but he was honestly concerned for the other.

"Look, it's Japan!" he said excitedly, and abandoned his place at the table in favor of going to his Asian friend. Germany sighed, standing up as well. "We might as well return to the meeting together, then."

"Hai, I agree." Japan replied, and turned his focus to the Italian that was happily retelling the story of the cat to him.

...oOo...

Prussia was running. He didn't know where to, but as he threw another door open, the only thought in his head was about Canada. There was only ten more minutes until the meeting resumed, and he still hadn't found the Northern nation! Prussia clutched the notebook tighter, as he opened another door to no luck, and _dammit did he go outside...?_

However, the occupants of the room seemed annoyed at being interrupted, and a young man with large eyebrows was coming closer- Britain? Prussia blinked, and focused on his surroundings. "-And that was a complete invasion of privacy, not to mention incredibly rude. With behaviour like that-"

"Do you guys know where Birdie is?" Prussia interrupted, not caring much about the scolding. Britain paused. "'Birdie'? Gilbird is on your head, if that was what you meant." he answered, walking back to his place on the couch. The other occupants of the room, America and France, were watching TV while eating lunch. The food varied, of course. France was gracefully cutting a crêpe with his cutlery, while America was stuffing down burgers and occasionally slurping down some coke. Prussia sighed dramatically.

"Nein! I mean _Birdie_! Y'know, Matthew? Canada?" Prussia clarified, eliciting a confused look from Britain. America and France nodded in recognition, though. "Come to think of it, where DOES Mattie spend his lunches?" America wondered thoughtfully. "Why do ya need him, anyway?"

"Well... D-don't you think... that the note could mean him?" Prussia stammered out, nervous. France dropped his fork, the metal making a _clang _against the tiled floor. There was a moment of silence. "Mon petit Mathieu... h-he..." France trailed off, almost fearfully. Britain looked at the three in puzzlement. "Pardon me for interrupting, but who might this 'Matthew' be?" he inquired, trying to keep the worry from showing in his voice. The way France and America had frozen like that... was America crying?

"D-dude! Your son! Well, France's son. My brother? At least remember him!" America replied, annoyed. Britain paused, recalling memories of a nation looking similar to America... "Oh! Matthew, how could I have forgotten...? Y-You think... he's trying to..." he couldn't continue.

"T-think about it! Us four are the only ones that even notice him! And I often see Birdie beat up because people think he's America!" Prussia elaborated. He didn't cry, no, he was too awesome to cry at moments like these, but his voice cracked slightly at the end. America sniffled, and Britain looked shocked. "H-he's certainly noticed by people! He just... disappears sometimes. Was he really... beat up?" he asked, his hands trembling a bit. Prussia nodded.

"Well, I spent the meeting brainstorming ways to help him. After all, he's as awesome as me! He can't d-die." Prussia tried to say firmly. He loosed his grip on the notebook, and opened it. He slowly flipped through the pages. Around halfway through the book, he stopped at a page.

Prussia read over the words for a moment, before turning the notebook around so that the page with writing was facing the other three nations. "The main thing we need to do is notice him." he pointed to the top of the page, as if he had all the words and placement memorized.

France nodded. "C'est une bonne idée. However, like you said, we're the only ones that communicate with him. How..."

"We'll start with us. Talk to the lad more often, perhaps." Britain suggested. "Eventually, people will start talking to him too. That's certainly something we can do." They nodded, and Prussia turned the notebook around again. With another thought, he ripped the page out, and placed it on the table. "While we awesomely do that, we also need to learn more about him. You three are his family, so when's his birthday? I never asked."

There was a pause. "His... birthday?" America repeated slowly. "Aw man, I have no idea! When did we celebrate it last year?" Britain shook his head slowly. "We didn't, did we? Oh bollocks, how could I not know..."

Prussia glared. "What kind of family ARE you? Pathetic..." he grumbled. "Anyway, we need to-"

"Oh no!" Britain exclaimed, jumping out of his seat. The other three turned to him quickly, looking around. "What is it?" the albino asked slowly, annoyed at being interrupted.

"We're a minute late to the meeting! I'm even the host this time, I can't be late!" Britain shouted, loosing a bit of composure. He grabbed his suitcase and speed-walked to the meeting room, running when he thought no one was looking. France, Prussia, and America looked confused as Britain speeded out of the room. "We're late, but what does that matter?" France sighed. Regardless, they slipped out as well, America bringing with him a few hamburgers (which he stuffed in his pocket).

_I didn't find Birdie... _Prussia glared, leaving the room.

Unknown to them all, Canada stood up from the couch on the other side of the room. "How ironic..." he sighed.

* * *

**A/N The guesses last chapter were interesting :) I'm estimating, maybe 20 chapters for this fanfic? Merci beaucoup for all the reviews so far! They encourage me to write chapters faster. Thanks for reading!**


	3. Secrets

**A/N Wow, this IS late... Happy Hetalia Day, everyone! I promise the other chapters won't take quite as long. ^^; On another note, I would really like a beta. I've sent out requests over 5 months ago, but no one responded (then again, I didn't exactly choose active ones...). Would anyone be willing to? **

**Disclaimer: However much I want to, I don't own Hetalia...**

* * *

Chapter 3: Secrets

_"I thought the most beautiful thing in the world must be shadow, the million moving shapes and cul-de-sacs of shadow. There was shadow in bureau drawers and closets and suitcases, and shadow under houses and trees and stones, and shadow at the back of people's eyes and smiles, and shadow, miles and miles and miles of it, on the night side of the earth."_

_― Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar_

The meeting ended an hour early.

It really couldn't be complained about. A dark atmosphere had been looming over them, and suddenly politics didn't appear as important. Most countries couldn't pay attention anyways, but this time both Britain and Germany were distracted as well- Britain in particular with concern for his son. There was half an hour of dead silence in the meeting room before Britain finally cleared his thoughts and adjourned it.

The nations cleared out quickly, longing to simply return home and rest. However, Britain was prevented from leaving by a hand holding his shoulder. He turned to see France, wearing an unusually grim countenance.

"W-would you like to explain why you happen to be-"

"_Mon cher, _we cannot relax. Matthieu must be nearby, as the meeting ended just now." the Frenchman responded softly. "We need to talk to him. If he is troubled, there must be something we can do to help."

Britain narrowed his eyes, determined. "I'll get the areas outside this building and the hotels, and you can cover the area inside." he brushed France's hand off his shoulder, although not before holding it for a moment. "It's simply... Where did we go wrong? How did we drive him to that?"

"It was not something we could control, _mon petit lapin. _However, we have certainly influenced it..."

"Call me 'your little rabbit' again and I swear I will turn you into a frog." he replied icily, quickly walking through the door. This time, however, with more resolve.

...oOo...

The majority of nations had left England already. They had wanted to discuss among themselves in privacy, which they decided couldn't be attained in the luxurious hotel rooms of England's Corinthia hotel. It had been approximately a week since then, but Spain and Romano still hadn't left. Romano would easily take the first opportunity to escape London, but with Spain holding him back each time, he was conflicted as to which he should choose. By this point, though, Spain was losing by a landslide. Luckily, the happy nation personification had finally decided to make a move to complete their discover-the-suicidal-person mission.

"Vamanos, Lovi! We have a world tour to go on!" Spain exclaimed cheerily, leaving the front door open as he went to look at the tomato plant he'd temporarily placed outside. A rather hotheaded Italian followed him angrily, slamming the door closed and locking it. "First of all, how many freakin' times have I told you to stop calling me that?!" he responded immediately. "Next, we're not going on a stupid world tour. This is just to make sure that those idiots aren't killing themselves, dammit!" he glared, stepping into the passenger's seat of the Spaniard's car. Romano didn't particularly trust the other's driving, and would seriously fear for his life during the trip, but he would probably fall asleep half an hour in anyway.

Spain hummed a tune as he started up the car. The engine started smoothly, and they were off. It would take at least a few hours to leave England, depending on which direction they were going-

Romano paused as he processed that question. "Oi, tomato bastard. Where are we going, anyway?!" he growled, annoyed that the thought hadn't struck him earlier on. Spain responded after a moment, putting some thought into the answer. Then again, it was entirely possible that he was considering it for the first time... "Greece!" he finally replied.

There was a pause.

"GREECE IS ON THE OTHER SIDE OF EUROPE!" Romano yelled, glaring at the Spaniard in contempt. Spain shook his head. "No, Greece and Spain are both in South Europe! It would take longer to drive to Finland, or one of the Baltics." he denied cheerfully, pressing the brakes when they reached an intersection.

"WE'RE IN ENGLAND, NOT SPAIN!" the twitching Italian sitting next to him was quiet for a moment once more, but instead of exploding further, he undid his seat belt. Romano used the time taken by the red light to shuffle into the driver's seat and shove Spain into riding shotgun. There was a lot of loud protesting on Spain's part, but by the time the signal turned green, Romano was at the steering wheel.

"I'm driving to Spain, idiot! It's closer!" he grumbled, making the tires screech as he made a crude turn with the car. The Italian was an impatient driver, albeit that would probably be preferred to Spain's distracted driving. They were well over the speed limit by now- England's speed limit was too slow, anyway.

They rode in silence for a while; Spain had resorted to pouting, and Romano was desperately trying not to give in. Until a shiny black Volkswagen caught their eye. Well, not as much as the driving sitting inside it. The white hair was unmistakable, and if that wasn't enough, a small chick was seated on top of the messy locks.

...oOo...

Prussia didn't know how he ended up in driving around. Perhaps he was trying to spot the Canadian walking on the sidewalks- but he diminished that possibility the moment he thought of it. The sidewalks of England were bustling with people at this time of evening. Combined with Canada's tendency to turn invisible, it would be impossible to discover him walking around, even if he was...

Besides, there was no doubt that Canada had already left. Prussia had asked for the blond's hotel room, and found out that the resident had cleared out of the room days ago.

Nonetheless, driving helped him clear his mind.

"...Hey, isn't that Toni? And Romano! Awesome, someone else who's still here!" Prussia chuckled to himself, before making a few dangerous turns to drive right next to the Mediterranean duo.

"What's up, you two? Enjoying my presence already?"

"Not at all, bastardo! We're on our way to Spain, so don't bother us!" Romano shouted, driving faster. Spain laughed nervously while feeling the wind starting to screech at the windows. He hastily pulled his up, praying that Lovi would slow down. Because-

"L-Lovi, I think that's the police... Slow down, mi tomate..." he said uneasily. Sure enough, the sirens were becoming louder, and Romano started screaming obscenities next to him. Prussia, being his ever awesome self, simply drove faster, leaving Romano and Spain behind to be caught.

"Chigi! That p-potato-bastard... He's not escaping!" Romano glared, watching the speed rise up to 150. To be fair, they had already reached a highway- the roads were pretty clear... The Italian and Prussian were both right next to each other now.

Spain paled as his phone suddenly went off. The Spanish national anthem blared through the speakers... distracting Romano... "Ah, lo siento, Lovi! No, don't push Gilbert off the road-"

...oOo...

"So, explain to me, _how did you manage to get arrested after only being here for a week?_" Britain spat. He rubbed his forehead, sighing. "Never mind. At least you haven't broken America's record yet..."

Spain laughed nervously as Romano tried to hide behind him. "Ahaha, sorry! But you really can't blame Lovi, _Inglaterra_. Or even Gilbert for that matter! Because your roads have very slow speed limits! Don't you think a change should-"

"Your distraction techniques are terrible, Spain."

"S-sí, I know. But, were you able to clear the charges?" Spain asked. The Briton nodded. "You'd better be thankful. Even though all three of you were nation personifications, the driving laws must still be implemented. Consider yourselves lucky, this time."

"Nonsense, they just weren't worthy of mein awesomeness!..." Prussia grinned. After some very evident disagreements from the others, and a harsh scolding from Britain, Spain finally realized an important fact.

"P-pero, Lovi crashed my car! How are we going to go to Greece now?" he whined, earning himself a smack from Romano. "We never were going to Greece! But I guess now it doesn't matter. Obviously, we're taking the plane, idiot."

With a few goodbyes, Spain and Romano were headed to the London City Airport, on their way to Greece.

...oOo...

"Ve, it's not nice to ignore people, you know..." Italy trailed off, his hands at work with the Spaghetti Carbonara. Graceful fingers slowly added pieces of diced bacon to the cold sauté pan, while he waited for Canada's response. He had already finished cooking the meat over low heat before the northern nation finally decided to reply.

"I'm touched that Gilbert cares. He's one of the few that do. But he's not exactly the type to keep a secret." came Canada's slow response. He turned the key to Italy's hotel room over in his hands, feeling the cold metal lay against his palm.

"Then why don't you talk to him? You can't stay with me forever. I already told Ludwig that I'd be leaving for Germany tomorrow." the usually cheerful Italian spoke with a stern tone. Canada sighed. It was true. However much he longed to avoid the confrontation with his family and best friend, it was inevitable. "Coraggio, Matteo! I don't blame you. No one could."

Feliciano finished off the last step, draining the pasta and combining it with the sauce and bacon. He piled the meal onto two beautifully ornamented plates, bringing them to the table and finally placing a plate in front of the miserable Canadian. Reluctantly, Matthew lifted a fork, and for a while, it was completely silent excluding the occasional scraping sound of cutlery and plate.

"It isn't your fault." Feliciano whispered, the fork pausing in front of his mouth. He ate the mouthful carefully, swallowing hesitantly before continuing.

"It wasn't your fault..."

* * *

**A/N *England's average speed limit for local roads is 49, while Italy's is 50-70. **

**(Fr) Mon cher = My dear**

**(Ita) Coraggio = Cheer up**

**(Spa) Lo siento = I'm sorry**

**(Spa) Pero = But**

**This chapter is only a little bit longer, but I intend to make them a proper length starting next chapter- in fact, this fanfic will probably undergo a few changes over the next month (nothing too important, though). So, did anyone go to one of the meet-ups this year? I didn't- both London and Kingston are pretty far from where I live :( But, I painted my nails for spirit...! **

**Please drop a review! ^^ If you do, I'll give you one of the chocolate chip cookies I made this morning. Which... admittedly, came out resembling something that England might make, but I tried! **


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N See, this wasn't as late as the last chapter! Eh, it's still been a while though ^^; Turns out I was lying about the longer chapter thing. This one is around the last length as the last one. But I'm done with any changes this fanfic needed, so now I can focus on writing. **

**Disclaimer: Jeg eier ikke Hetalia.**

* * *

Chapter 4: Conversation

"_When you're surrounded by all these people, it can be lonelier than when you're by yourself. You can be in a huge crowd, but if you don't feel like you can trust anyone or talk to anybody, you feel like you're really alone." _

― _Fiona Apple_

"W-what did you come up with?" Prussia started with forced confidence. His red eyes kept flickering to the walls, slightly intimidated by the sheer number of cases the other nation had resolved. After Spain and Romano left, Britain had led him deeper into the building. The police station had a separate hallway entirely composed of meeting rooms, but Britain had insisted that they talked in his office. One of the Brit's pastimes included habitual conferences with the police officers, and while he was nowhere near as justice-compelled as America, he made a respectable detective.

"Very little, as of yet. I talked to France after the meeting last week, discussing a search party. He agreed to look inside the hotel and conference building, while I was supposed to search outside. I've been patrolling the streets this past week for any signs of... Matthew, but with no luck..." his voice cracked a bit near the end, but Britain ignored it and continued speaking. "If he's trying this hard to avoid us, that note m-must be talking about h-him..."

Prussia had started to reach a hand out to comfort the other, but with his last sentence, he stilled.

With jerky movements, he grabbed his cell phone from his pocket and typed as fast as he could.

_To: Matthew Williams_

_Subject: Listen to me_

_Birdie,_

_We're sorry. Britain even promised not to forget you. Well, no, he hasn't, but I'll make him say it._

_Don't do anything rash. B-because..._

_Because I love you._

Send.

...oOo...

France stood on the balcony, frozen.

His mind was yelling at him to run up to the Canadian on the other side of the wall and talk to him. But at the same time, he was blank with confusion, trying to decipher the conversation that he had just overheard.

He could only stand still as the sound of Italy's quiet crying filled the air. A fork clattered against porcelain, as someone stood up and walked over. France strained his ears to hear what the quiet nation was saying. "C-calm down," Canada seemed to be attempting to comfort the Italian, "I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

A second set of sniffling joined the first, and France could guess that the two young nations were crying together. His heart ached, longing to go there and comfort them, cheer them up. But all of a sudden, a loud beep resounded in the air. At first, the Frenchman worried that it was his own, but he opened his phone to see no new updates.

"D-desolé, Italy. I have a n-new text?" there was a bit of shuffling inside, and France wondered if his former colony would notice all the missed calls that he must've received.

"Ve? From who, Matteo?"

"It's from Gilbert. It says..."

Whatever Canada was going to say was drowned out by a loud knocking on his door. France cursed. What horrible timing for room service! He was only able to hear the conversation because his hotel room was situated right next to Italy's. After a long day of searching, he'd decided to rest on his balcony... and was able to eavesdrop because of the Italian's tendency to leave his windows open. If he moved away from this point, then he wouldn't be able to hear their conversation...

With a silent groan, France stepped off the balcony and went to open the door to the room. As expected, it was a young man pushing a cart piled with towels and blankets. "E-excuse me for interrupting, sir. May I-"

"Go ahead." France didn't bother to disguise his foul mood as he strode past the man. However, he would be lying if he said that the disruption wasn't convenient. He truly needed time to interpret the words said by the two young nations, and possibly discuss it with Britain. With a plan in mind, he set out towards the residence of the Englishman.

...oOo...

"Come on, Lovi! We're finally in Greece!" came the Spaniard's cheerful voice. The shorter Italian behind him, on the other hand, was exceptionally grumpy from the plane ride. The lady whose toddler cried the whole flight hadn't helped a whole lot either. "Shut up." he responded in irritation, "Now give me your phone so I can call Greece."

"But Lovi, my phone is out of battery! I was using it to play games during the flight." Spain responded apologetically. With a sigh, Romano pulled out his own cell phone and punched in the numbers to the Greek's number.

"Huh? Yeah, ciao. No... Well, shit. Can't you arrange something? Good. Fine, we're going now." The rather one-sided phone call went. Greece clearly took a long time to answer...

"Listen up. We're meeting him at a restaurant closes to here." Romano relayed, Spain nodding in understanding. "Could it be that one, by any chance?" he pointed to a small, colorfully decorated building across the street. "...Actually, yeah. I think it's that one."

...oOo...

"So," Yawn. "What did you want to talk to me about?" Greece asked lazily. A cat was nestled upon his hair, and he was dressed casually. Romano paused. Now that they were actually talking to the possible "suspects", it was very... awkward.

"R-right. How happy are you right now? N-not because we care, dammit!" he stuttered. Greece didn't even look pensive as he responded. "I'm very happy. And very *yawn* relaxed." the reply came. Spain looked dubious. "What about your debt? And relations with Turkey?"

"The EU is really helping with the *yawn* debt. And Turkey has always been an ηλίθιος. ...That's nothing new." he responded slowly. Romano sighed. No progress? Then again, what did he expect? For the nation to come out and say it? On the other hand, Spain seemed completely disbelieving.

"Ah, don't worry Grecia. We promise that we will keep your secret!" Spain said, his eyes shining. "I am so sorry, mi hermano, I didn't notice at all!" he took the older nation's hand and gripped it in what he probably thought was a comforting manner. Greece stared at the other nation in confusion. D-did he just call him 'Germania'? Suddenly, it clicked.

"Oh no. Spain is suffering from a horrible disease-"

"He's just fine, you idiot! Ahh, merda, this trip was pointless!" Romano glared at his former guardian angrily. "Why didn't you choose the Baltics, or some other nation that at least _seems _depressed?" Spain pouted. "No, Lovi, you don't understand! Look at him, he looks mucho enfermo!"

"...No, that's just the cat. Although maybe he's psychologically insane..." he replied thoughtfully, before returning to the task at hand.

"Well, if you're fine then there's now reason to stay here. We're going to the Baltics now." with a stern glance at Spain, Romano continued, "But it takes 27 hours to reach Lithuania... So we're going by plane again. Meaning, we're returning to the-"

"You can't... it would take hours to get tickets. You *yawn* could stay at my house for tonight..." Greece suggested sleepily, interrupting the Italian. The two glanced at Greece in curiosity. Come to think of it, they had never been to the nation's house before... "Alright!" Spain concluded.

"I... walked here, so we should hail a taxi to... drive to my house. It's... 20 minutes away." the older nation told them. With a groan, Romano managed to attract the attention of one- albeit with much difficulty. Greece lazily spoke to the driver while Romano hesitantly made himself comfortable on the back seat.

Spain cheerfully opened the front passenger's seat and sat down, ignoring the nation outside who was now standing awkwardly outside of the taxi. "H-hey! You idiot, don't be so mean- Greece has to sit in the front to help the driver!" Romano stuttered.

"Aw Lovi, I'm not mean, I'm nice!"

"Then get your nice ass over here!"

"...Did you just say that I have a nice ass?"

"Sh-shut up!"

After a few minutes Greece finally managed to enter the car, and in around half an hour (the nation had dozed off and forgot to mention where exactly they needed to be dropped off) they reached his house.

...oOo...

Canada clutched his phone in shock. The sudden love confession wasn't completely unexpected, but to think...

"It's from Gilbert. H-he said he loved me..." he trailed off. Italy gasped. "C-Cosa!? But..." All of a sudden, his eyes started tearing up. "N-no! It's not f-fair! He can't!" the nation stammered. Canada lowered his eyes. He should have anticipated this reaction. Normally Italy was so involved and excited about helping people with their romances, but right now Matthew was saying it in the worst possible time. He watched in worry as the Italian curled up into a ball on the sofa, hugging a pillow to his chest.

"Y-you can't be that selfish... It's not f-fair!" Italy repeated, and Canada stood up to walk over to the sofa.

"I won't respond as long as I can help it. There are more important things to figure out right now. But my response _will _be a yes, Italy. We'll get through this mess, and everything will be alright." he said softly. Canada couldn't help but believe in his own words.

* * *

**A/N *Sherlock Holmes must have influenced Britain **_**somehow.**_

**(Gr) ηλίθιος = idiot**

**(Ita) Ciao = hello**

**(Fr) Désolé = sorry**

**(Spa) Grecia = Greece**

**(Spa) Mi hermano = my brother**

**(Gr) χερμανο (hermano) = suuuuper vague way of saying Germania**

**(Ita) Cosa?! = What!?**

**Well, there's the next chapter. Thanks for reading, and please drop a review! ^^**


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